


Limned

by stardustbunny



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, MAMA Era Powers (EXO)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21897094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustbunny/pseuds/stardustbunny
Summary: Jongdae and Yixing decorate their house for the holidays, though not everything goes according to plan.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23
Collections: The Xingmas Daes 2019





	Limned

**Author's Note:**

> This work was written for the Xingmas Daes 2019.
> 
> Based off of a loose mix of "MAMA" and "Blooming Day," part of a larger Chen/Lay fic that I hope to finish and publish one day.

The first thing Yixing sees when he wakes up one December morning is the soft glow of fairy lights lining the ceiling of his bedroom, illuminating the metal tillandsia cages hanging in the air. He blinks once, twice, and looks over to Jongdae’s bed which is already empty.

“Ah, shit—” Jongdae’s voice comes from the living room, followed by a small shower of noise hitting the floor.

Yixing throws the blankets off of him and rushes over to find Jongdae staring dejectedly at silver tinsel lying around the perimeter of the room. 

“That took me like thirty minutes to tape up,” Jongdae grumbles, stepping down from the stepstool he was standing on. “It’s fucking _tinsel_. It’s made out of _plastic_. It’s supposed to be _light_. Why does it keep falling down?”

Yixing tries his best not to burst out laughing but a small chuckle still manages to escape him. “Jongdae-yah, what are you doing?”

“Decorating… trying to,” he adds as an afterthought as he plops onto the couch and starts cutting out more strips of scotch tape. “They had all these decorations at the store, and since we’ll be spending the holiday together, I thought—you know—it’s the least that I could do.”

Yixing sits down next to him, noting the lack of a static shock when his leg brushes against Jongdae’s. He smiles as he reaches over carefully, slowly to squeeze his arm.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back home?” he asks. “You’ve been doing so much better lately with keeping everything in check. I don’t think you’ve shocked me at all this whole month.”

Jongdae shakes his head, lips pursing and eyebrows furrowing. “Better isn’t good enough,” he says. “I need to be 100% under control, and I’m not right now. I’m still shocking people when they accidentally bump into me and stuff.” He leans down and drags the tinsel up from the floor, sticking on the newly cut pieces of tape with a brewing fury.

Yixing sighs quietly, watching him for a moment before taking a section of the tinsel and helping him with the tape. “You’re too hard on yourself,” he says. “If you keep on insisting on perfection, you’ll never see your family again.”

“Says the person who hasn’t been home in over three years,” Jongdae chides with a quirk of his brow. He seems frustrated until Yixing meets his gaze, expression smoothing out into something more gentle. His eyes watch him with an understanding of the loneliness and isolation that come with bearing their Gifts.

Yixing manages a smile back at him and nudges his shoulder. “Ah, how rude. Arenʼt you living here for free?”

“Yes, because for some reason you refuse to let me pitch in for rent.”

They’re silent for a long moment as they attempt to salvage the tinsel, placing and replacing tape where it’s needed, peeling off the pieces that have lost their stick and crumpling them into a pile on the table.

“This seems… good enough?” Yixing says.

“Let’s try it.”

Jongdae takes one end of the tinsel and Yixing holds up the rest, attempting to keep the tape from sticking to itself while they bring it over to the stepstool. Jongdae gets up onto it, presses one end into the edge where the ceiling meets the wall, and smooths every piece of tape flat, holding out his hands when heʼs done and waiting to see if it’ll fall. Satisfied, he steps off the stool and moves it down the way, avoiding the various flower pots decorating the floor as Yixing follows along after him.

“I never took you to be so festive for the holidays,” Yixing comments.

Jongdae snorts quietly and shrugs. “It’s mostly just tradition. My mom always decorates the house for the holidays, so you know…” He trails off.

“… You sure you don’t want to go back home?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. You sure _you_ donʼt want to go back home?”

“Iʼm sure. Maybe next year.”

They eventually manage to get all of the tinsel back up, and Yixing laughs when he sees how much more relaxed Jongdae’s shoulders and brows are.

“It looks wonderful. Thank you—”

“Wait, I’m not done yet,” Jongdae says, disappearing into the kitchen. He drags out a cardboard box about a foot taller than him, practically buzzing with energy now. “I got a tree too. It’s pre-lit so all we have to do is plug it in.”

“You really went all out, huh?” Yixing grins. He heads over to help him unbox it, patting him affectionately on the butt with a satisfying slap. “Okay, let’s put it up.”

They cut through the tape and lay the box down longways to pull the tree out. After securing it to its metal floor base, Yixing and Jongdae begin to spread out the branches to make it look more natural and less like it’s been squished into a box for however many months. 

Suddenly, Jongdae stops and shudders, and a moment later the pitter-patter of rain fills the room. Yixing glances out the window by the front door and sees dark storm clouds where the sun should be at this hour. 

Yixing tilts his head towards him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae responds, stretching his neck and loosening his shoulders. “I’ve just been getting chills these days whenever the rain starts.”

“You sure you’re not just getting sick? Should I make you some tea?”

Jongdae’s brows immediately knit together. “No, I’m not getting sick, I promise,” he laments. “Whatever you made last time was _so_ bitter. I had to hold my nose to finish it, and on top of that everything else tasted bitter for the entire week.”

Yixing snorts and reaches out to cradle Jongdae’s cheeks in his hands. “Aw, poor baby. I’ll be sure to add more honey next time.”

“Wait—what? _More_ honey? You mean you already added some last time?” Jongdae exclaims, horrified. 

He hesitates before pressing a gentle kiss onto Jongdae’s forehead. “Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself.” The sulkiness in Jongdae’s frown eases off, and he takes Yixing’s hands in his. He squeezes them gently, lingering for a long moment. “No promises there,” he says, sarcasm lifting a corner of his lips, and lets go.

Yixing feels the slightest prick of static but he pretends not to notice.

They make some space for the tree in the corner, moving some flower pots that were there into the kitchen instead, and plug it in. The white LED lights envelop the room with a much needed warmth, as if everything had been covered in a layer of pixie dust.

“I should have bought ornaments or something,” Jongdae mumbles. “The tree looks really bare.”

Yixing taps his chin in thought and looks around the apartment, more a flurry of petals and leaves than drywall and wooden floors. “Hang on, I have an idea,” he says. He moves to the kitchen and rifles through the drawers searching for his pair of pruning shears.

“What are you doing?” Jongdae asks.

“You’ll see.”

He manages to find them in the next drawer over and shuffles to the violets, then to the jasmines, and to the lilies, snipping the flowers that he can spare before placing the shears back inside the drawer. He balances the flowers in his hands and walks back over to the tree with a broad grin.

“These can be our ornaments,” he declares.

Jongdae barks out a laugh. His eyes wrinkle around the corners as he plucks a tiny jasmine from his hands and places it on a branch. “Isn’t it kinda weird that we’re decorating a fake tree with real flowers?”

Yixing snorts. “Kind of, huh? At least you won’t have to make another trip to the store to buy any.” He pours half of them into Jongdaeʼs hands, spreading his fingers to dislodge a violet that got stuck between them.

Soon enough, their tree is blooming with flowers all perfectly limned in golden light. It might not be as extravagant as actual ornaments, but it’s _their_ tree and honestly? Yixing thinks it’s a little perfect. They both plop themselves down onto the couch, admiring their handiwork.

“You should send a picture to your mom,” Yixing says, knocking his knee against Jongdae’s. “I bet she’d love to see what you did.”

“Ah, yeah. That’s a good idea,” Jongdae says. “I’m just gonna text them to her this time. No more trying to deal with that weird zipper nonsense through email.”

“Zipper?” Yixing says with a bewildered laugh. “You mean a _zipped_ folder?”

“Yeah, that thing. Why do they even call it a zipped folder anyways? Have you ever seen a paper folder with a zipper on it in real life? Why not call it like a sealed folder or, I don’t know, a glued folder? It’s not like it’s a jacket or something,” Jongdae rapid fires. He shakes his head with a solemn frown. “Zipped folder… it just doesn’t make any sense.”

“For someone who has control over electricity, you’d think that you’d be like… you know, not completely hopeless with technology,” Yixing teases. 

Jongdae grumbles and groans while leaning in against Yixing and resting his head on his shoulder. “Ugh, I’m telling you: the Goddess did this just to make my whole life a joke. Gave me power over the one element that I’m just like totally shit with.”

“It _is_ pretty funny, I have to admit.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Jongdae whines.

A steadily increasing drumming on the roof makes them stop. Yixing looks up, and Jongdae shudders again. Even the hairs on Yixing’s neck stand up this time when a clap of thunder rolls through the apartment.

“I hope the power doesn’t—”

Before Yixing has the chance to finish his sentence, the lights flicker and then the apartment goes completely dark.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Ah, you’ve got to be kidding me!” Jongdae just about screeches, jumping up indignantly. “Really? The power goes off _now_? After all of that?”

“It’ll probably come on again soon,” Yixing says in an attempt to placate him. “These blackouts usually don’t last that long.”

But his words fall on deaf ears as Jongdae walks towards the window to just _glare_ at the raging storm outside. His fingers lying by his side give a twitch and a small spark branches between them. 

“Jongdae, it’s okay.”

“No,” he groans. “I just wanted…” He pauses and glances over at the Christmas tree, still standing tall and sturdy in its corner. He heads towards it, examining it silently for a few seconds longer before reaching around to pull the plug out from the wall.

“Okay, I’m gonna try something. I just hope I don’t regret it,” Jongdae mumbles the last part under his breath before placing the plug in the middle of his palms and clasping his fingers together.

The lights flicker on the tree, surging between a glaring brightness and a dim glow as Jongdae tries to get it to just the right wattage. Yixing doesn’t say anything because he knows that Jongdae has made up his mind at this point, and there is absolutely no talking him out of it.

“Just… a little bit…” The lights begin to even out and settle onto a steady brightness.

Yixing lets out a fond sigh and shakes his head. “Jongdae, this really isn’t necessary.” He walks over as Jongdae sits down onto the floor, plug still in hand. He sits down next to him, careful as he places a hand on his thigh. 

Jongdae just frowns and looks down at his hands. He opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it, opting to rest his head against Yixing’s shoulder again instead.

“You might be hopeless with like cellphones and computers and TVs and radios and—well you get the gist of it,” Yixing says, a wide grin on his face. “But you know I think you might be onto something with this whole lights situation. Maybe you can just power our whole apartment so I can stop paying the electricity bills.”

This earns a laugh from Jongdae who just leans in more of his weight against Yixing. “I guess that’s fair considering you’re not letting me pitch in—”

Yixing waves him off. “None of that,” he says. “Just do your job, little Energizer bunny.”

They both laugh together. Jongdae loops an arm around Yixing’s, and Yixing scoots in even closer.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” Jongdae says.

“I haven’t done much.” 

Yixing isn’t being humble. He really hasn’t been able to do much for Jongdae since he showed up at his door, wondering if the rumored “Healer” would be able to cure him of his Gift, his powers over electrIcity. The electricity is still there coursing through his veins. It’s as if it’s been coiled around every fiber of his being, and no matter how hard Yixing pulls, it just stays wrapped around him, tightening more and more.

Jongdae lifts his head from Yixing’s shoulder and looks up at him. He leans in, their noses bumping briefly, before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. 

“You’ve done more than you know.”

They sit together like this, slouched against the wall and sprawled out against each other. The rumbling rain is the only other companion to their quiet conversations about everything and nothing at all.

Yixing doesn’t notice how dim the lights have gotten until Jongdae yawns for the tenth time that hour, his grip on the plug loosened considerably. He doesn’t comment on it, knows Jongdae will wake himself up with a newfound vehemence to keep the lights on, and keeps talking about his thoughts on the webcomic that Jongdae introduced him to the other day.

When the lights go out completely and Jongdae’s breath has gotten slow and steady in a telltale sign of sleep, Yixing manages to slip himself away long enough to grab the blanket on the couch. He brings it back over and quickly returns to his place on the floor to catch Jongdae who was starting to lean sideways without the weight of Yixing to stop him. He drapes the blanket over them and glances at Jongdae who looks so much smaller curled up against his side. He’s barely aware of the smile that tugs at his lips when he pulls Jongdae in closer to him and closes his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thank you Mod K for your endless patience.


End file.
